


I Got Nothing But Dreams Inside

by LilaHurley



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Comeplay, First attempt at smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rimming, Sexting, Snapchat, how many times did I write the word cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilaHurley/pseuds/LilaHurley
Summary: Patrick looks back over to Pete, who has curled onto his side, shirt still riding up a little, the curve of his spine on show. Does he know what that does to Patrick? His eyes glaze over as his mind rapid fires every filthy thought he's ever had about Pete.





	I Got Nothing But Dreams Inside

"Pete. This is the last time I'll tell you. Fuck. Off." Patrick growls, slapping Pete's phone from his face. Pete laughs obnoxiously, double tapping the screen so the camera is front-facing.  
"Aww someone's grumpy." He pouts at the screen. He takes his thumb off the record button, sticks a couple emojis over Patrick's frowning face and adds it to his story.  
Patrick had told him, no snaps, no tweets, no instagrams of him. He didn't have social media for a reason, and he just didn't feel comfortable with candid shots of him all over the place. Even after 16 years, he's still uncomfortable with the paparazzi. He's really glad Pete is the prettiest and most interesting person in the band, so Patrick doesn't have to suffer so often.

He looks over to Pete, slouched in an armchair, shirt riding up his stomach. How does he still look so good? Patrick looks down at himself, he's looked worse, he thinks. He glances back over at Pete, who now has his hand up his shirt, softly rubbing over his stomach. Patrick can't help but watch, he licks his lips, quickly darting his eyes around incase anyone caught that. Joe is face down on the sofa, snoring. Andy has his nose buried deep into a comic book, occasionally stopping to scratch at his beard.

Patrick looks back over to Pete, who has curled onto his side, shirt still riding up a little, the curve of his spine on show. Does he know what that does to Patrick? His eyes glaze over as his mind rapid fires every filthy thought he's ever had about Pete.  
On his knees, Pete's cock shoved so far down his throat he can't breathe.  
On his back, legs over Pete's shoulders as Pete fucks into him hard.  
Hands spreading Pete's ass, licking into him like he's a popsicle on a hot day.

Patrick breathes in sharply, suddenly dizzy from all the blood rushing to his cock. He has to keep this to himself, he can't think about it. Aside from the stupid kisses he and Pete shared when they were younger, he's suppressed everything. And it's been years since that happened. Over 10.

Pete turns his head to look over his shoulder, talking over Patrick's thoughts.  
"Hm? Sorry, thinking about uh, chord...progression." Patrick gets out, blushing fiercely.  
"I said, should we order pizza to here, or to the hotel?" Pete mumbles.  
"Hotel, we're just waiting for Marcus to come back and tell us we're good to go." Patrick replies, willing his boner away in the back of his mind.  
Pete makes a noise in reply, turning back to his phone screen.

Patrick stands, awkwardly waddles over to the connecting bathroom in their green room. They'd just finished performing Young and Menace for the first time, they were all kind of tired, they just wanted to eat and go to sleep.

Patrick locks the door behind himself, stumbling over to the sink and splashing cold water over his face. He looks down and notices his hard on has mostly gone. He sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. He's still flushed, still thinking about Pete. He's about to give himself a pep talk when he hears a knock at the door.  
"'Trick?" It's Pete. "We're good to go. C'mon I'm starving." Pete whines, tapping the door a couple more times before Patrick hears him pick up his bag and walk out of the green room. Patrick looks himself over in the mirror one more time before he leaves the bathroom.

At the hotel, he's sat on his bed, against the headboard. His laptop is perched on his thighs, fan whirring like a jet engine. He should probably turn it off and go to sleep, he thinks. He then thinks back to Pete on Snapchat earlier. He wonders how easy it would be to make his own secret Snapchat, add it to Pete's contacts and put his phone back where he found it without Pete noticing. Pete is seemingly constantly attached to his phone when they're on the road. There's nothing better to do.

Patrick picks his phone up from the bedside table, unlocks it and begins to download Snapchat.  
While it downloads he texts Pete.

Patrick 11.17pm  
Hey man, can you come over and listen to this? I can't decide if it sounds right.

He lays his phone back down, starting to click on his laptop again. No more than 40 seconds later his phone buzzes. As he's unlocking it he hears a knock at the door. He reads the text as he walks to the door.

Pete 11.17pm  
b thr in 3 secs

He rolls his eyes and chuckles as he opens the door to reveal Pete. He's in an old clandestine hoodie, only half done up so Patrick can see the necklace of thorns. Patrick gulps.  
"Are you gonna let me in?" Pete questions, pushing Patrick aside anyway and launching himself onto Patrick's bed.  
Patrick closes the door slowly, looking down at his phone and seeing that Snapchat is installed. He lingers away from Pete, he can't get caught before the plan is already done. He tries to come up with a username. He frowns, it can't be anything to do with his name at all. Or the band. He chews his cheek. It can be something to do with music, Pete wouldn't question opening a snap from a user whose name is music related. Fellownote. He smirks, pretty smart if he does say so himself.

He sits down on the bed next to Pete, phone locked and in his grasp. He glances down and sees Pete's stomach muscles clenched, he looks back up to see Pete knowingly smirking at him.  
"See something you like baby?" Pete waggle his eyebrows at Patrick.  
"Yeah, my laptop." Patrick smirks. Good comeback, he congratulates himself.  
He reaches over and slides it onto his lap, stretching over Pete to grab bis headphones and plug them into the jack. He looks up while his chest is pressed to Pete's stomach, Pete's face is turned away, his adams apple bobs in his throat.

"Here, um, have a listen" Patrick chokes. Now is the time to strike. Pete is focusing on the music, his eyes closed as his nods his head along to the beat. Patrick stares him in the face as he reaches down to pick up Pete's phone from beside his thigh.  
He's glad that Pete told him his passcode, so he can punch it in with ease. He quickly opens Snapchat, fumbling to add himself to the contacts. He takes a completely hilarious and unflattering upward angle shot of his face. Double chin in all its glory, glasses slipping down his nose, cheeks lightly blotched with pink because he feels so cheeky doing this. He quickly deletes it and adds himself, locking Pete's phone and dropping it back onto the bed.

Pete looks up as it hits his thigh, eyebrow raising in question.  
"Uh, thought it was mine." Patrick stumbles, gulping and hoping he doesn't look as guilty as he is. Pete's eyebrow lowers slowly, a grin replacing his confused expression.  
"No problem, man. Easy mistake to make." He smiles, eyes slipping closed as he presses play and keeps listening.

Patrick stands and quickly walks to the en suite. Closing the door softly and locking it behind him. He paces on the cool tile, hands getting sweaty as he decides his opening move. He unlocks his phone and finds Snapchat is still open. He throws his head back and sighs, looking back down and opening a conversation with Pete.

'What's up?' he write, quickly pressing send before he can talk himself out of it. He suddenly notices he should put his phone on silent, lest Pete replies while Patrick is sitting shoulder to shoulder with him.  
He leaves the bathroom, greeted by Pete who has his head tipped down at his phone, typing furiously.  
Patrick's own phone lights up in his hand, his eyes shoot open behind his glasses, and he slaps his phone face down onto his stomach.  
"You okay?" Pete shoots his head up, staring at Patrick.  
"Uh, yeah. Uh, I think that pizza was bad." He stammers, turning around and comically fumbling with the door handle. He yanks it open and turns back to offer Pete a nervous smile which ends on a grimace, and locks the door behind him. He slides to the floor and unlocks his phone. Pete has already replied.

'What's up? I'm just chilling at the hotel. Not to be rude, but who is this? You're a contact and I've accepted you but I can't place you?'

Patrick snorts to himself, of course you can't place me, he thinks. As his inner monologue runs he notices Pete has sent a Snap. He clicks it, watching it load. It opens to a picture of Pete laying back against Patrick's headboard. His eyebrow is raised, hand up to his jaw.

Patrick smiles, he's always loved how comfortable Pete looks in pictures.

'Your turn' Pete types. Patrick panics. The hell is he supposed to send a picture of?

'Sorry' he replies, 'It's dark. What are you up to?'

Pete is typing...  
'Just laying in bed, not sure if I should sleep yet. Help me decide?'

Patrick's eyes bug out of his head. Is Pete initiating dirty talk?

'How can I help you?' Patrick types, chewing on his lip.

'You could send me a picture' Pete sends. He bold, Patrick has gotta give it to him. he looks around the bathroom. Hotel bathrooms are identical. Pete would be onto him in seconds. He looks down at himself. He shimmies out of his shirt, Pete would never suspect his shoulder. He snaps a quick picture, sending it before he chickens out.

Pete has sent you a snap!

Patrick clicks the red square, mind running on what it could be.

It's Pete's thighs, his pajamas. They're pulled tight like Pete has done it on purpose, bold at the apex of his legs very noticeable. Patrick swallow hard, warmth in his stomach getting more prominent.

Pete is typing...  
'Give me something'  
'Come on'

Patrick bites his lip, looking down at his own lap. Yeah, he's definitely on his way to hard. He shakes his head, he can't believe he's doing this. He pulls his pajama pants down, just enough for the dark blonde hair and the top of his half hard cock to show. He sucks in his stomach and takes a picture. God, even thinking about Pete seeing this is getting him so hot. He sends it, putting his phone on his thigh to run his hand across the bulge between his legs. He shudders and slips his eyes closed, Pete is out there on Patrick's bed right now, hard himself. Probably touching his cock under his pants.  
Fuck, Patrick pants, slipping his hand under his pants to give himself a rough stroke. He stops, this is too obvious, he's in here in silence. It's too conspicuous. He stands, ignoring his boner, and steps over to the toilet. He flushes it and closes the lid. He quickly steps over to the shower and turns the dial. He doesn't care about the temperature, it's just a cover.  
"I'm just going to get another shower!" He yells to the door, hoping Pete hears him.  
"Uh, sure! Take your time" Pete croaks back.  
He pulls his pants to his knees and sits on the lid of the toilet, barely sparing a second to think about how unsanitary this is. He picks his phone up from beside the sink, noticing that he has 5 snaps from Pete. Jesus, he's insistent.  
He opens the chat and clicks the first purple square. It's a video he quickly notes. Purple is for video.

It's Pete, laying on the bed, just the bottom half of his face on show. He runs his hand along his jaw again, then tracks his hand down to his zip, which he undoes, and pushes his hoodie to the side. He tracks his hand down even further and it ends.  
Patrick frantically clicks the next red square, it's Pete's hand holding the top half of his cock, just the base surrounded by coarse black hair on show.  
The next is his hand at the base, the head of his cock dark purple and shiny, making Patrick's mouth water.

'Your turn'  
'Come on baby'

Patrick strokes himself again, huffing out a breath. His other hand shakes as he angles it down to take a picture of his own cock, just as hard as Pete's. Except he keeps his hand on the circle, moaning softly. He watches it back, it's a 3 second video of his hard dick slipping through his tight fist. He sends it.

Patrick set his phone down to concentrate on jacking himself, not noticing that he's turned off silent mode.

Pete is typing...  
'Where are you?'  
'Sounds like you're in a bathroom'

Patrick pales. Fuck. He didn't think about the sound of the shower. Fuck fuck fuck. He mentally slaps himself. He quickly gets up, almost tripping over his pants that are tangled around his ankles.

"Patrick? Are you done?" He hears Pete on the other side of the door.  
"Oh shit," he whispers. "Um, yeah! Just about to dry off!" He yells, sticking one foot into the shower and sliding it about to feign the sound of him moving inside it. He quickly turns it off and kicks his pajama pants into the corner of the room, grabbing a towel and wrapping around himself under his armpits. He glances down and sees his cock tenting out the towel. He rolls his eyes, moving to turn towards the door, and the rough fabric runs across the tip of his length. He shudders and bites his lip against the moan that almost slips out. Pete has gone quiet. He's about to reach down and attempt to tuck his hard on between his legs when his phone vibrates violently against the tile.

Fuck.

Shit.

Oh god no.

He hears Pete sigh.  
"Patrick, open the damn door." He orders. Patrick is bright red from the tips of his ears to his chest. He hangs his head as he cracks the door, Pete's face comes into view.  
"I'm sorry, I was jus-" Patrick gets out before the door is forced open and Pete steps into the room. Patrick scrunches his eyes shut in preparation for the screaming match that is about to commence. It doesn't happen. He opens one eye to see Pete's face right in front of his, he feels Pete's breath ghost over his lips, he feels Pete's nose press against the tip of his, he feels Pete's hands come up to cup his face.

Pete crashes his lips into Patrick's, stepping forward to close the gap, moaning into Patrick's closed mouth. Patrick stands there in shock. He didn't expect this. Pete notices the hesitation, he pulls back and looks at Patrick's face. Patrick looks back at him, at his half lidded eyes and his swollen, wet lips. Fuck it. He grabs the back of Pete's neck and pulls his face into his own. This is a dirty kiss, tongues slipping in and out of mouths, teeth biting into lips, hands grabbing at any skin available. Patrick lets a high pitched moan out, pushing his hips into Pete's. He can feel how hard Pete still is, it's digging into his hip.

Pete reaches down, grabs Patrick's ass and pulls him in harder, grinding himself into Patrick. His lips leave Patrick's, biting down his neck, muttering under his breath.  
"Wanted this. Wanted this," he chants. "Need you so bad, Patrick. Patrick." he continues, biting down on his collarbone. Patrick wails, gripping the hair at the back of Pete's head and yanking. Pete groans like he's dying.  
"More. More. Need more" he begs. Hand reaching up to tighten Patrick's.

"Bed. Come on. Bed Pete, I'm not doing this here." Patrick demands, pushing Pete back and walking past him to settle on the corner of the bed. He looks up at Pete, who is utterly debauched. Hair sticking up at all angles, scratches along his shoulders, lips swollen like he's gone ten rounds. He pushes his pajama pants down to reveal his glistening cock, pre come beading at the tip. He looks gorgeous.

Patrick bites his lip, reaching down to untuck the towel around his chest. He lets it fall open, peering up to look at Pete, he bites his lip and strokes his hand along his thigh.

Pete growls. No, really. Growls like a dog and takes the last 3 steps to the bed before swinging himself over Patrick's legs and kissing him hard again. He rolls his hips down onto Patrick, panting his name.  
"That's it, that's it Pete. More" Patrick groans, reaching behind to grab at Pete's bare ass.  
"You gonna be a good boy for me, Pete?" Patrick pants, squeezing the soft, hot flesh. Pete moans and nods his head, moving down to bite at Patrick's chest. He slips to the floor and settles between Patrick's legs.  
"You are a good boy, aren't you?" Patrick croons, running his fingers through Pete's dark hair. Pete purrs in reply, bending down to kiss from Patrick's knee to the top of his thigh.  
"And good boys get rewarded," Patrick moans. "Suck my dick Pete. Suck it til I tell you to stop and we'll think about a reward, hm?" He demands, watching Pete's eyelids flutter, a shiver rolling down his back.

Pete reaches up and grabs Patrick's cock, rubbing his thumb under the head and across the fleshy nub. Patrick whines and pulls at Pete's hair.  
"Don't tease me." He growls, pushing his hips towards Pete's face.  
"Wouldn't dream of it." Pete replies, before opening his mouth and sinking down on Patrick's length. Patrick gasps, throwing his head back and gripping the top of Pete's arm. Holy fuck, this is better than he imagine it would be. Pete is running his tongue along every vein he can find, twisting one hand up to meet what his mouth can't fit. Patrick starts panting, he's getting close already. He hears- and feels- Pete moan, he peers down and sees the muscles in Pete's shoulder working, Pete's hand between his own legs.  
"Did I fucking say you could jerk off?" Patrick growls, pulling Pete off his cock. His mouth pops off and he looks up at Patrick guiltily, licking the saliva and pre come from his lips.

His eyes are completely blown, no whiskey-brown visible. Patrick thinks about how beautiful he is.  
"You're not so bad yourself." Pete smiles, kissing Patrick's thigh.  
"I guess I didn't just think that, huh." Patrick laughs. He yanks Pete up to his lips, tasting himself on Pete's tongue.  
"What do you want Pete? You were so good, so good for me." Patrick mumbles into Pete's mouth. Pete just whines and grinds down onto Patrick's lap.  
"Use your voice baby," Patrick says, kissing along Pete's chest. Pete whines again. Patrick pulls back, staring at Pete's hungry eyes. "I asked nicely. Now you don't get a choice. On your knees, face down." Patrick demands. Pete whimpers and scrambles onto the bed, spreading his knees apart and displaying himself to Patrick.

"Fuck," Patrick groans, taking himself in his hand and stroking himself roughly. "You look so good baby, so good for me."  
Pete giggles and shakes his ass, and Patrick can't take it anymore. He's dreamt about this moment for 16 years. He jumps onto the bed, grabbing both of Pete's cheeks before spreading them apart and looking at his tight hole.  
"You look delicious. I'm gonna be occupied so let me explain what I'm gonna go to you." Patrick whispers, bending down and nipping where Pete's ass meets his thigh.  
"I'm going to lick you open, get you all wet for me. Then I'm gonna slide a finger in next to my tongue, get a feel of you. I'm going to play with your cock, feeling the weight of it in my palm as I add another finger." Patrick groans, getting closer to Pete's hole with each sentence. Pete whines and pushes his ass back towards Patrick.

Everything is quiet for a few seconds, save for their panting and the dull sound of cars beeping and driving past outside. Patrick leans in and licks a stripe from Pete's balls to his hole, eyes fluttering at the taste.  
Pete gasps, then whines.  
"M-more" He begs.  
Patrick leans in again, licking around the tight muscle before tensing his tongue and pushing in a tiny bit. He pulls back and starts swiping his tongue over Pete's hole again and again, listening to Pete's whines build to a crescendo.

He sucks a finger into his mouth before bringing it up next to his tongue.  
He pushes it into Pete's hole, which has relaxed slightly from Patrick's eager licks. It pops past the first ring of muscle, into the soft, warm crevice inside. He groans into Pete's thigh.  
"Oh fuck, you're so tight. I can't wait to feel you around my cock." Patrick says, looking up at the hand that's stroking along Pete's back. the contrast in their skin distracts him for a moment before Pete is whining and fucking himself on his finger.  
"Impatient?" Patrick smirks, licking around a second finger as he pushes it in to join the first.

Pete moans into the pillow, still fucking back onto Patrick's fingers.  
"Done this- done this before," Pete whimpers. "Feels so good Patrick."  
"Oh really, who did you think of Pete? Tell me." Patrick asks, twisting his fingers around to find that spot he knows will drive Pete wild.  
"You, oh fuck, you," Pete pants. "Always yo-" He begins again, before leaning into his pillow and practically screaming. Patrick plays his prostate like an instrument, driving Pete absolutely wild. He takes his chance, slipping in a third finger while he kisses Pete's back, still pressing his fingers up against Pete's prostate.  
"Now, now Patrick please." Pete pleads.  
"Beg." Patrick growls, he hopes Pete begs quickly, he's so hard it hurts. He reaches down to stroke himself softly.  
"Please please please, p-please fuck me Patrick. N-need to feel your cock, need you inside me. Please" Pete whines, fighting through the waves of pleasure while Patrick, the fucker, continues stroking that spot inside him.

"Turn over baby let me look at you." He says, removing his fingers from Pete's ass. Pete whines, but turns onto his back. He's completely floored by how Patrick is glowing. His hair is plastered against his head, sweat dripping from his face, lips red and swollen. Pete looks down and sees Patrick's cock slipping through his fist. Pete moves to grab himself before Patrick leans down and whispers in his ear.  
"I'm the only one who gets to touch that." He breathes, biting Pete's earlobe. Pete whimpers and nods, turning his head to watch Patrick slip off the bed and rummage through his bag. He comes up with a small bottle of lube and a condom.

Patrick rejoins him on the bed, popping the cap off the lube and rubbing it on three fingers. He reaches down and roughly pushes them back into Pete, pumping them in and out quickly, while he uses his other hand to stroke Pete's rock hard cock. Pete almost screams, he starts shaking, thighs trembling. And then Patrick is gone. He opens his eyes to see Patrick biting his lip as he rolls the condom onto himself, then coats it in lube.

He leans over Pete, reaching down to hold himself to Pete's hole, before inching in slowly.  
"I can take it, I can take it I promise." Pete whines, trying to push down against the hand that his holding his hip. Patrick pushes in suddenly, bottomed out inside Pete. He stroked his hands down Pete's sides while he adjusts.  
"I'm ready, I'm ready," Pete pants, he looks Patrick directly in the eyes. "Fuck me, Patrick." He whispers, eyes not faltering for a second.

Patrick starts off soft, just letting himself feel Pete, he's waited so long he doesn't want this to be over too soon. He looks down to where their bodies join, it's obscene. He licks his lips and reaches over to cover his hand in slick. He grabs Pete's cock as he drives into him harder, lifting Pete's ass onto his lap to angle better, he can tell that he's found the spot when Pete starts whining, eyes scrunched closed, tears running down the sides of his face.  
"I'm so close, I'm gonna come," Pete moans, reaching behind his head to grip the pillow in his hands.  
"Not yet, come with me Pete." Patrick groans, letting go of Pete's cock so he can pull his hips to meet his own. The only sounds around them are the slapping of skin and their harsh pants, murmured endearments.  
"So good for me baby, so good," Patrick pants, biting his lip. "Can you come without being touched?" He asks, eyes slipping closed.  
"Ah, keep doing that and I can do anything" Pete gasps. Patrick looks up to see Pete in an absolutely state, one hand is gripping his hair while the other reaches down to feel Patrick fucking into him. Patrick growls at the sight of Pete touching his swollen hole.  
"Now Pete, come for me" Patrick groans, fucking Pete impossibly hard, the head of his cock slamming into Pete's prostate with every thrust. Pete's eyes roll into the back of his head as his mouth opens in a silent scream. His back arches as he shoots ribbons of come onto his torso. Patrick shouts and pulls out quickly, tearing the condom off and jacking himself until he's shuddering and adding to the mess on Pete's stomach.  
"Fuck, you're amazing baby." Patrick leans down to kiss Pete's slack mouth. He wipes a drop of his come from the side of Pete's face and drags his finger along Pete's tongue. Pete's eyes shoot open and he closes his mouth to suck the rest of the come off.

Patrick stands from the bed on wobbly legs and stumbles over to the en suite. He returns with a damp cloth and wipes Pete's body. Pete lays there with a smile on his face, eyes closed, letting himself be taken care of. Patrick finishes wiping him with a kiss to his bellybutton. As he turns to take the cloth back into the bathroom, Pete's hand closes around his wrist and tugs him down onto the bed.

"We're so sweaty, we should get a shower." Patrick suggests, pushing his limp hair out of his face.  
"Shh, no more talking," Pete croaks, his voice is wrecked. "Just lay with me. Please."  
"Yeah. Yeah I can do that." Patrick smiles.

"Hey so, Snapchat huh?" Pete quizzes, propping himself up on his elbow and stroking a finger along Patrick's collarbone. Patrick blushes and covers his face.  
"Yeah um, I never really understood the appeal, until now." He mumbles through his hands.  
"Until now." Pete repeats, removing Patrick's hands from his face and kissing him softly, unlike any other kiss they shared tonight.


End file.
